Make Me Better
by Silent Sage
Summary: <html><head></head>It's already difficult to be a geisha in training. It doesn't help any when your mentor is a man and no one ever tells you. AU</html>
1. something of a prologue

**Make Me Better**

**Disclaimer**: Bleach and all characters associated with it belong to Tite Kube. I'm borrowing his characters for the sake of fanservice.

**A/N**: Present day.

...

**something of a prologue**

Orihime learned from an early age to drown out the surrounding noise that, if given the opportunity, would suffocate her in its oppressive clutches like a vice.

_'Poor girl.' _

_'Her parents-' _

_'Her brother is-' _

It is –she would not say any _less_- bearable _now_ in comparison to _then_.

Back _then_, there were these nameless faces smiling and vocally pitying her. Their gossip that began the moment Orihime turned her back to them like acidic honey dripping down from her ears. They only saw her _situation_, but talk as if they knew.

_Now_, now there are these pretty faces, painted white with their shiny oh so red lips. Their brightly colored mouths are upturned into false smiles, the red of their lips tempting, like the bright red berries on the tree near their house that her brother warned her never to eat.

They grin with friendly smiles while laughingly admonish her for her mistakes, her appearance, her _history_.

Orihime doesn't stall. She doesn't need to hide herself in a corner to relearn how to _breathe_.

Not like she used to.

Orihime can straighten her shoulders and listen to their whispers.

It's progress.

Six years of it.

These harpies, with a smile that could send a man to their doom, see _her_ now, not that sad, so incredibly pitifully, _sad_ Orihime and her brothe-

_"Kaguya_," Orihime mentally states to herself at night, a constant mantra. "My name is Kaguya."

They all have similar stories to her. At least, they would like to think so. Orihime allows them to gossip, keeping the conversation about herself to a minimum as long as it means she never has to tell about why she's in Las Noches in the first place. She's lets them pretend that she's one of them – that she's waiting, waiting for that somebody.

They all want more.

More pretty kimonos.

More bright hair pins.

More clients.

More money.

They need to show their worth to their 'sisters' and to the owner.

Clients equal food in their bowls after all.

Maybe that rich man who will tip her generously for a job well done.

Maybe – maybe even a prince.

Orihime rolls her eyes and continues on her way.

All the other girls are waiting for that prince or rich customer who will take them away from this life as a geisha.

Orihi-no, _Kaguya_ has potential. She is under the tutelage of the second most favored geisha of the house.

Orihime doesn't need a prince.

Walking down the hall to the main hallway, Orihime tilts her head slightly to admire her reflection in the mirror. She is highly sought after due to her physical appearance, but also in the arts, which were so carefully hammered into her by her older sister.

She is a true lady.

Orihime constantly hears the gossip that certainly someone will buy her and allow her to live as a mistress to a rich man. They all aspire to be the trophy woman for a man who is not satisfied with his wife.

Orihime shakes her head at those dreams.

She doesn't need a prince.

She wants –

Orihime stops herself.

She doesn't allow herself to dream anymore.

It is a privilege that she lost a long time ago.

…

Biting into her rice ball, a ration of red bean paste carefully smeared in the middle, Orihime looks up to smile at her fellow maiko-sisters as they file into the once quiet common room. They're done with their latest training session with their older, more seasoned geisha-sisters. A few giggle, returning her grin. Some will return to their rooms to serve and potentially eat with older sisters in their private rooms. More likely than not, the majority will return after serving their sisters to partake of their own meal.

Orihime takes another bite, watching several of the maikos disappear into their respective rooms to attend to their sisters.

She has to eat quickly.

The other maikos gather around her. They gossip and chat amongst themselves – relieved that the day's training is over.

The shadows along the walkways are growing longer, signaling the quiet arrival of the evening. The night clients will be arriving from their jobs for entertainment. Nighttime is the busiest time of the day. All the geishas will be out, entertaining guests in their own specialized trades.

Orihime doesn't have to look up to notice that some of the smiles directed toward her are more sincere than others.

"Kaguya! I heard it was a busy day today!" One of the maiko's exclaimed – earnest and curious about her day's event.

She beams.

A compliment toward her older sister means the world to her. Praise to her mentor is also an indirect compliment toward her as her successor.

"Yes, it was! The client was very kind," her fingers twitch against her silky sleeve, "He even complimented me on my shimasen playing!"

Some smiles are roses with thorns so carefully concealed beneath soft, oh so soft petals of gossamer.

"Yo, rookie! How's the Ice Queen treating you?" Menoly sneers, her emerald eyes narrow as she walks closer to Orihime. Her hands are resting on her hips as she leans down, impatience flowing off her like a broken tap as she waits for an answer.

Orihime places her rice ball down. She looks up, her hair ornaments tinkling delicately from the suddenly movement, her grin –bright, like the sun- are anything but fragile. "I expect nothing less than what I deserve from my older sister."

* * *

><p><strong>SS<strong>: My knowledge of geishas is limited at best. Still, I try. This plotbunny has been bothering me for the longest. Anyway, comments and critique are always appreciated.


	2. A Diamond in the Rough

**Make Me Better**

**A/N:** This story skips between the time Orihime was 11 years old and later when she's 17. This (...) indicates this part of the story is in the past while (...-...) means you're reading what's happening presently to the bunch.**  
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Chapter 1: **A Diamond in the Rough**

...**  
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"What are you looking at, Ulquiorra?"

"A stray bird just flew in."

Neliel frowned at the cryptic response. Following his line of sight, she was pleasantly surprised to see a young girl dart between the opened gates of the compound's entrance. The guards were distracted by a few of their more flirtatious geishas as they passed by from their recent shopping trip in the town. The diversion allowed a small window of time for an equally small child to slip underneath the guards' line of sight.

"She's ballsy," Nel murmured, a slight undercurrent of appreciation resonating in her husky voice. She rose from her seat. She might as well personally see the unexpected guest before the little street rat was manhandled and ultimately kicked out by the guards as they realized they allowed someone in.

It was rare that anyone was bold enough to sneak into the compound. Nel had a few minutes to amuse herself before she had to personally greet the VIP clients - a street urchin might as well past the time until she was needed.

"Keep her."

"Oh?"

How curious.

Ulquiorra looked up at her, his green eyes narrowed slightly in warning.

Sighing, Nel shrugged. She glanced out the window as the young girl crept alongside the house. She caught a glimpse of the girl's face. She couldn't be any older than eleven or twelve. Despite the dirt that smudged her cheeks, her mousy, stringy brown hair limply framing an equally earth-stained face, and the kimono that certainly had seen better days, a spark of interest flared in Nel's gut.

She was looking for _someone_, not something.

This girl was on a mission.

Nel took a step forward to leave, waving a hand at the other before she disappeared outside the door to greet the small intruder, "I suppose I should see the object of the young master's interest lest it interferes with Ayame's performance tonight."

Ulquiorra didn't respond at the last statement – his eyes still focused on the girl.

A few steps to the right, past the vase from one of their more generous benefactors then turn left. The first door to the right, open the door, and Nel nearly avoided a collision with the little brat.

"So, kid, mind telling me why you're here?" Neliel placed both hands on her hips and set her sights squarely on the wretched looking child.

The girl eep-ed, turning frightened eyes Nel's way. For just a moment, she looked like she would bolt.

On the other side of the courtyard, the guards were finally realizing there was an unwanted visitor in the residence.

Unexpectedly, the young girl fell to her hands and feet and bent her upper body into a low bow.

"Please teach me how to become a geisha!"

Well.

That was unexpected.

"Get off the ground," Nel replied immediately, "You look common."

Using a fan usually hidden within the folds of her kimono sleeve, Nel forced Orihime's head off the ground until their eyes met, hazel green eyes clashing with silver eyes

Orihime ungracefully picked herself off the ground. Her fingers trembled but her mouth was set in a firm line of determination.

This was a gamble.

Nel's gaze narrowed, this girl knew there were laws, even broken by minors about trespassing, especially in brothels. She would be sent to jail – it was common knowledge.

Orihime gulped, the irrational desire to wrap her arms around herself came into full force as Neliel eyes noticeably appraised her. It was only a glance, but never in Orihime's eleven years of existence did she feel as naked as she did before the owner and mistress of the House of Las Noches.

In Hueco Mundo, Las Noches sat on the outskirts. It was the unofficial border house between the main town/area of commerce and the red light district. If not for the many men, all wealthy businessmen and some carefully hiding their faces –_politicians_, Orihime murmured – she would never have possibly considered that this was a geisha house. Las Noches, with its handcrafted mahogany exterior, was a palace just barely noticeable from the expansive gate surrounding it. Only through the grace of Orihime's quickness and a bumbling guard awed by passing geisha, did she manage to slip through the seemingly impenetrable walls and end up almost literally running into the lady of the house.

Orihime was smart enough to know the owner of Las Noches when she saw her.

In contrast to the luxury surrounding her, the mistress (okaa-sama) of the establishment dressed plainly in comparison. It did nothing to take away from her natural beauty. Instead, the house may have paled in comparison to its affluent owner.

With her teal hair tied up in a bun, several strands of her long, curly hair framing a face that only time and inner confidence could sculpt, and dressed in a spotless, simple, lavender kimono – Neliel Tu Odelschwanck was a business owner that probably would have made her former geisha-persona pale in comparison. She was famed for her strict business practice and exclusive clientele. She was so highly regarded that whispers of her and her House of Las Noches spread across the towns, and even to the countryside.

More importantly, she was ultimately Orihime's judge.

Las Noches was her last and only saving grace.

"You're dirty," Neliel stated frankly. She grabbed Orihime's wrist with surprisingly strong but soft hands. Nel held Orihime's palms upright, her thumb swiping against the tips of her fingers, "Your hands and fingers are covered in calluses. Working, _useless hands_, for this profession," she frowned. "You're obviously a country bumpkin."

Orihime visibly flinched, her shoulders stiffening against the lash against her physical appearance.

_'You're beautiful as you are, Orihime.' _

She wanted to hide behind her brother.

But…she couldn't.

Orihime looked up, determination set in her features as she held desperately onto the mistress's forearm with her free hand. "You have to hire me. I-I do not have anywhere else to go."

"Go to another house."

"Please! Y-you're the best! Please! I beg of you! I'll do anything," Orihime beseeched. Her fingers closed over Nel's fingers in desperation, "Wash the floors, dishes, anything as long as I can become a geisha!"

Orihime had seen the other geisha's in different houses. These houses openly displayed their…goods before the eager eyes of men and the public. She vividly remembered catching a glimpse of their eyes from the corner of the street. Their eyes were haunted and ragged even when their rich makeup should have covered any flaws.

The girls at Los Noches…

Their eyes glowed; they still had _life_.

Better yet, they had a goal. There was a reason why they were chosen or chose to work at Las Noches.

"Huh."

Neliel cocked her head to the side; she was looking back into the house.

Orihime held on.

"Alright then."

"R-really…?" Orihime dropped back onto her knees, relief flooding her body like the spring rains that once flooded their fields during the summer. She furiously blinked back tears, rubbing her sleeve against her face, further smudging dirt across her face.

Sighing, Neliel turned away, using Orihime's momentary lapse of grip on her arm to pull away. "Follow me. Let's see who I can drop you off with."

She turned around, hands folded neatly in front of her as Orihime stumbled after her.

Nel glanced behind her momentarily, "What should I call you? '_Street Rat'_ would be viewed unfavorably by my customers."

Orihime paused, her eyes widened as unbidden tears once again flooded her vision. This time, it was due to the sheer, inexplicable sadness that surged in her chest; the little linen parcel in her pocket a heavy reminder of her guilt.

She couldn't go back after this. The flower clips that he worked so hard to gift her burned into her skin despite the cloth that surrounded them in her pocket.

She was unworthy of the name he called her so fondly.

"My name is-"

…-…

"_Kaguya_."

A cold voice sweeps through the common room like the foreboding winter months that were quickly approaching.

"Big sister-Ayame," Kaguya greets, her shoulders subtly sagging in relief as the other girls in the room froze.

Quiet seized the room. Apacci's mouth was gaping, half a bite of Kaguya's rice ball still in her mouth.

"I cannot find my comb," Ulquiorra states, looking at Kaguya fixedly. "The one with the blue stone. Find it."

"Yes, older sister." Kaguya grins sunnily, disregarding the carefully concealed pitying gazes from her sisters as she stood up and disappeared into the hallway to search for Ulquiorra's elusive comb for his hair.

Kaguya's departure means that Ayame's presence was no longer needed in the room.

Which was wishful thinking on the maikos part.

Ulquiorra slams his hand down on the table, moving quicker into the room than any of the other women could have anticipated.

"She is _my_ protégée," Ulquiorra made it a point to linger his gaze at Mila and Apacci. His own masculine voice creeping into the edge of Ayame's lighter tone, "Cease your unnecessary chatter about her training. I will have no disrespect regarding me or my younger sister."

"Y-yes older sister-Ayame!" Mila and Menoly chorus, while Apacci flushes, nodding furiously, her mouth still full with rice.

Standing straight, his aura calm and serene as before, Ulquiorra turns away to leave. The occupants of the room staring after his back were no longer cause for concern.

The trip back to the room was stalled just outside the doorway.

He could hear Kaguya softly humming to herself. If memory served him correct, which it always did, it was the same song they heard the last time they were in town.

"Stop scaring my girls, Ulquiorra."

"Someone needed to quiet them."

"Their girls, let them talk," Harribel smirks from her position against the doorframe right outside the corridor that leads to his room. Her aqua-colored eyes dance with amusement as Ulquiorra, the cold, certainly male figure, reappeared on the normally passive face of her (supposedly) female coworker.

Ulquiorra stood steadfast against the number one geisha of Los Noches and probably the number one oiran in the whole red light district.

"They're right though. Kaguya is better off with me," Harribel shrugs, her garnet-colored kimono casually sliding down her shoulder, baring her perfectly tanned shoulder. Purple marks were already blossoming against her smooth skin. "That girl's mizuage is coming up. I might as well train her now, that way she could easily pay her dues and then some in the future."

Harribel notes Ulquiorra's shoulder rising in agitation but also in defense. She continues anyway, "That girl is suited to be an oiran. She can do _better_. I thought you'd want for the best for that girl considering her circumstances."

The blonde's smirk widens, "I'll even let you borrow her for your concerts."

They can both hear Kaguya humming from Ayame's quarters. Ulquiorra could hear the soft clink of metal against hardwood and crushed velvet as Kaguya rearranges his combs. He could mentally see holding them as if they were bits of treasure. Every now and then, she would sigh, innocent and sweet, as she admires the worthless trinkets.

"She was mine first and will stay that way." Ulquiorra does not bother for a response from the blond before he turns away to make quick strides toward his room. He firmly opens the door and entered the room.

Ulquiorra still needs his comb.

…

"_What_ is this?"

Emerald eyes narrowed minutely. Orihime fidgeted under the scrutiny.

"Is this-whatever it is- even a girl?"

Ouch. Orihime fought the reflex to instinctively flinch at the harsh words.

"Her name is Kaguya and she just came from the country," the teal-haired woman grinned toothily, shoving Orihime closer to the other, "She's such an interesting _little bird_-" Nel mentally applauded herself for causing Ulquiorra's eyes to twitch. "-And I thought it would be suitable for her to be paired with the crane of our household, which is – " she raises a hand toward the other woman, "You."

Neliel's eyes sharpened, the face of the proprietor of the brothel appearing, "You will be her older sister. Be kind."

Her tone of voice left no room for discussion.

Orihime bit her bottom lip, afraid to look up. Her first glimpse of her soon-to-be older sister left her shell-shocked. She thought Neliel was beautiful, which she was bu-but, she never thought it was possible for such a beauty like _this_ to exist.

In full geisha-wear, the other woman was the embodiment of the ideal woman.

Orihime remembered walking past luxury vendors during her first day in this large city. They were selling gems from the mysterious West. She heard whispers that these brightly colored stones were sold by flaxen haired traders who spoke with a weird tongue and even weirder customs. Their jewels sparkled in the sunlight, brighter than any piece of silk or colored glass, in particular the green ones. They glowed like the new leaves of her peach tree back at home after a heavy rain. Those same gems were bobbles of worthless glass in comparison to this woman's eyes. The kohl liner delicately drowned around her eyes further enhanced her beauty. A quick glance at the other's nape indicated that her skin was probably as white as the makeup sparingly covering her face.

A true sign of a geisha was the natural beauty that resided within the geisha rather than relying on heavy makeup, unlike that of the maikos Orihime had seen often traipsing in the nearby town.

Wrapped in silk, the same color of her eyes with an ebony obi around her waist, she was the picture of an ideal geisha. Orihime remembered spying on the pictures that were framed so proudly in the stores in the country. She could not contain her awe to see the real life version. She used to beg her brother into allowing her to come with him just to see pictures of these legendarily beautiful women. That hour-long walk to see the clean, sweet smelling cloths and those shiny bobbles, and pictures of woman, their face so beautifully pale, a contrast to their full red lips, all clad in vibrant kimonos, was always worth for her sore feet.

Orihime's chest ached as she realized just how poorly she looked and felt in comparison.

"You're obviously asking for a miracle."

Orihime's head stay lowered at her 'older sister's' cruel words. Her long fan of hair fell against the side of her face, a flimsy barrier against the older woman's painful true words.

Her fingers nervously tugged at the rough material of her kimono; she was used to foul words thrown at her the moment she stepped into the city. It didn't mean it didn't sting any less.

According to one woman, who stopped her child from walking beside her on the way to the Las Noches, Orihime was probably covered in cow manure.

But…

She needed this.

She clenched her fist and stood patiently. She kept her head bowed down and squashed the feeling that she was lower than a dung beetle. Instead, she waited - waited for Neliel to state she would find another geisha to accept her as their maiko. Or maybe even a kitchen girl until another geisha was available to train her.

"Although…she has potential."

Orihime jumped when the other's husky voice, warm and deep, like tea –the good kind, where the tea leaves were still fresh and hadn't been used twenty times because that was all her brother could afford – resounded above her.

Silver eyes met green.

Orihime was awed once more.

"Good," Neliel clapped Orihime's back, causing her to stumble into the room and into the tatami floors. The two older women eyed her, not out of laughter or spite, but judging. Scrutinizing her for her movements. Hazel green eyes narrowed, "A diamond in the rough." Nel turned to the emerald-clad woman, "Take care of her. This one is a good one. She'll give us plenty of business in the future."

Orihime desperately looked on as Neliel closed the doors behind her, leaving her alone wit-with…

The raven-haired woman stepped in front of her, giving no indication to help Orihime from off the ground.

"I will be your older sister. Most importantly, I will be your mentor until you become a full-fledged geisha for Las Noches." She narrowed her eyes, hardening them likes the gemstones Orihime could never touch. "I am Ayame."

* * *

><p><strong>SS<strong>: So, if you've read this far then whoo. Basically, Orihime is masquerading as "Kaguya" while Ulquiorra is pretending to be a woman under the name "Ayame." Review and whatnot, especially if you're confused. I'm trying out a different writing style so it could be a little buggy.


	3. I'm Gonna Bet On That

**Make Me Better**

Chapter 2: **I'm Gonna Bet On That**

…

"This is really your hair color."

It was a more of a statement than a question, the slightest touch of awe in the older woman's voice. It was hard to tell, but Orihime could _just_ hear it. She received looks and remarks about her hair ever since she could remember.

One does not grow in a rural village without learning how to read people.

She averted her eyes to her toes, wiggling them delicately against the murky water, "Yes."

Orihime could feel the goose bumps forming on her skin as Ayame's gaze bore down her nude back. Sitting on one of the washing stools in the corner of the bathing area, she was furiously scrubbing her skin with a pumice stone. A towel resting on her lap was her only form of modesty.

Her older sister followed in after her, a bath robe wrapped firmly around her body as she observed Orihime bathe.

Orihime could not contain the blush spreading from her cheeks, down her neck, and then some. She wasn't concerned about her nudity, they were both women after all, but…she grimaced at the mess around her. She knew the water surrounding her was blackened from the amount of grit and dirt on her body and hair from weeks without bathing. She already dumped several buckets of water over her head, and _finally_ she could see her skin, dirt-free and pink from the vigorous scouring. Her hair on the other hand was a different surprise. It seemingly appeared that the brown color of her hair slid from her head, and melted into the floor after the fifth bucket of hot water. There was enough dirt removed to see her hair sweeping down against her body in wet, amber waves.

It was weird.

Going into this town, people frowned at her for her smell and filthy appearance. Back then, people scowled at her bright orange hair.

She renewed her vigorous scrubbing along her skin.

"You can use soap."

"N-no! You shouldn't waste it on me." Orihime nervously shook her head, sending droplets of water flying around her like diamonds across the bathing area. She was still filthy. Surprise and shame racked through her body at the thought of using anything but water on herself. She walked in, spying at the vials of colored oils and bars of sweetly scented soaps for just a _moment_ and stubbornly turned her head away They were too precious to be used on someone as lowly as her.

"I will throw you out in the street if you walk into my room again smelling like a sewer."

Orihime eep-ed as a cold, gelatinous liquid was poured over the top of her head, dripping down on to her shoulders and sliding down her body. Her eyes stung, but the smell of flowers surprised her too much to care. She's never had soap or any cleaning solution that smells this wonderful. Soap was a luxury back at home. The few times they've had it, the precious soap was given to them by the kind lady in the market who combined the leftover bits of soap from her bathhouse into a misshapen ball and traded it to them for a few potatoes. The small ruddy bar of soap was used carefully and sparingly.

She flinched as suddenly, hands were in her hair, gently scrubbing her scalp and unknotting the tangles in her tresses.

"I c-can do that myself!" Orihime blushed, dropping the pumice stone on her lap. She raised her arms to scrub her hair, but a quick and certain smack on her wrist prevented her from touching her own hair.

Ayame's voice, right next to her furiously red ears, caused her to jump on the washing stool. "Stay still and be grateful I'm helping you. You're _still_ filthy. You need another pair of hands to get the grit from that body."

Orihime obediently closed her eyes; she could already feel the harsh stinging of oils at the corner of her eyes. The hands that carefully ran through her long hair, removing the little bits of straw and whatever she managed to get on it from her stay on the streets, were gentle despite the harsh voice of its owner.

She was glad that her older sister was behind her, washing her hair, unable to see her face. She was even more grateful for the stinging washing liquid dripping down from her hair and onto her face and eyes.

Orihime could blame the sting of the liquid in her eyes for the tears falling down her cheeks.

.

It was already dark by the time the two departed from the bathhouse. The servant who had to clean it after they left was in for a treat.

The little mud-covered duckling that snuck into Las Noches had transformed into quite the little bird – a swan in the making. Clad in Ulquiorra's spare bathrobe, Kaguya was a sight to behold as they walked through the halls to his room.

Passing maiko and geisha, some with clients, watched the little procession.

The second most favored in Hueco Mueco often garnered attention, but the young girl stuck to her like a leech was a different sight. Her long, damp tangerine strands fell loosely around her shoulders, her skin flushed and pink from her hot bath. Even the youngest of maikos could see she was a fresh face with a natural charm despite her downturned head.

Ulquiorra tilted his head slightly, sending cold stares to the curious maiko poking their heads from their rooms to see the newcomer. They squealed and ducked their heads back in. Although the door to their various rooms would stay open, allowing them to see the two walk away after Ulquiorra turned his head away.

"They're staring…" Kaguya murmured softly, attempting to stay as close as possible to him without actually touching him.

"Your appearance was unplanned," Ulquiorra replied.

Kaguya suddenly ducked her head behind Ulquiorra when another figure appeared from around the corner. Her eyes widened almost comically at the sight from the other woman's loosened robes.

"Harribel," Ulquiorra stated in half greeting, half warning.

"She's pretty," Harribel commented. She tugged her client closer. The man –the son of the owner of a trading company renown for their expediency, Ulquiorra noted- flushed, but he did not attempt to avert his eyes from her barley clothed chest.

Harribel moved closer to her client, snuggling under the crook of his arm as she led him to her rooms on the other side of Las Noches. She waved her hand from down the hallway, her voice husky and melodic as it traveled down the hallway. "Have fun."

Kaguya peered her head from Ulquiorra's side, grey eyes curious and stunned.

"She's beautiful…"

"She is."

"Are you two…friends?"

"No."

"Oh…"

Ulquiorra stated evenly, glancing at Kaguya for just a moment. "Geisha do not have friends."

He half expected to see her crestfallen face but she looked, replying wryly, "Neither did I."

Whatever surprise that may have appeared in Ulquiorra's face disappeared behind his dark hair.

The walk to his room was less eventful to say the least.

Kaguya sat on one of the mats, attempting to make herself small as possible.

Apparently, despite his minimalistic tendencies, the splendor of the room and whatever was in it was too much for her based on her eyes, staring uncertainly down at her folded hands resting neatly on her lap. Although she did glance from time to time at his tea set, the china gleaming off the light from the candles.

He dropped several kimono in front of her. Neliel was responsible for the cleaning outfit for Kaguya when she did her chores.

"Is…this for me?"

"Are you expecting to walk around in that bathrobe during your stay here?"

Kaguya wrapped her arms around herself, "N-no!"

"Then these are for you." '

"Don't they belong to you…?"

"They did."

"Then I can't possibly accept-"

"And now they're yours."

Kaguya hesitated. She looked up at Ulquiorra, disbelief etched on her features. Slowly, she reached forward, her fingertips reverently touching the fine silk of the carefully folded clothes in front of her.

"Never had something this nice before?"

"Never had this many clothes solely for myself before," was Kaguya's immediate reply, almost matter of fact. There was no hint of self-deprecation or self-pity on her face or voice.

Ulquiorra remained silent, watching as she reverently picked one up to hold it up against the light.

"Wow, you look amazing cleaned up," Nel stated, easily sliding the door leading into Ulquiorra's room. She stepped in, crouching down to Kaguya's eye level. Kaguya blinked but didn't flinch under her gaze. She held Ulquiorra's kimono closer to herself though. In fear that Neliel would take it away or for comfort under the woman's scrutiny, Ulquiorra did not know.

Nel grinned at the response (or lack thereof). She raised a hand, her fingers sliding against the young girl's smooth, unblemished cheek. Kaguya's eyes flickered to her hand, but she still kept her eyes stationed on Neliel's face.

"Not bad. I expected better but not _this_ much better."

The blush on Kaguya's face spread from her cheeks. She finally looked away, her fingers nervously stroking the fine silk of the kimono in her hands. "Older sister-Ayame helped."

Ulquiorra snorted, "It was already there. I simply contributed in removing the dirt."

Neliel grinned. She sent Ulquiorra a look, but moved her attention to the folded clothes sitting next to the blushing girl. She picked the topmost one up, examining the cherry colored silk kimono. "So you're giving her yours, huh?"

"They're still in fashion."

"What a doting older sister you've turned in to. Too bad the girls before didn't get to see this side of you."

Kaguya looked around the room. There were no other hints that there may have been other maikos under Ayame's.

"If she can make it a day, they're all hers."

"Oh?" Neliel raised an eyebrow, "You gave your other girls that option?"

"Yes."

"You're only reaffirming preconceptions," Nel stated dryly. She rose from her crouch, her eyes skimming over Kaguya's form once more. "There's a pool going on. I'm betting that you'll last over a year." She glanced at Ulquiorra, "Be happy that I, your adoring mistress, have such faith in you."

"Nel." A warning.

"M-ma'am," Kaguya stated, her eyes darting with uncertainty from Neliel to Ulquiorra, confusion on her face.

"See ya," Neliel laughed, fleeing from the room. Her laughter, sweet and earthy, echoed down the hallways.

Ulquiorra grit his teeth. He was used to this crude behavior, but a pool? He glanced his eyes at Kaguya as her attention was focused on the kimono. She had potential, but many of the other girls Neliel had given him had potential. The fact that they couldn't commit was the reason he drove them around. There was no point in him wasting time on a girl who wouldn't listen to him.

"She'll win," Kaguya said quietly.

"What?"

Kaguya looked up, a determined grin on her face. "I'll stay with you for a year and even longer than that."

"Big words for a little country mouse," Ulquiorra stated.

She smiled, and Ulquiorra was taken aback as she smiled, a real smile that reached her eyes.

"They make us tougher in the country."

…-…

"Ayame, I found it!" Kaguya holds the comb in her hand like a treasure. She presents it to Ulquiorra while still bowed on the ground, like a pauper handing it to a queen.

Her hair is a mess; the long orange tresses running freely down her body like a river of amber. Her face, free of makeup, is flushed. The pink darting across her cheeks a better accent than any makeup. Her robes are also in disarray, loosened from her frantic search on the floors, in the drawers, and wherever else she could possibly reach in search of the comb.

She's grown up so much since that twelve year old girl to this child-woman at seventeen.

Ulquiorra knows Kaguya could do well as an oiran. It certainly is a more lucrative than a geisha specializing in entertainment. A geisha is one who entertains her clients with witty humor or pleasant conversation, games such as Go, or singing or plays an instrument. An oiran may have those same skills, especially one that is owned by Las Noches, but otherwise her body and quick mind is her main asset. Kaguya's face and body are beautiful, and she has the charisma to quickly garner amass a large clientele.

Geishas, such as Ayame, that are trained to strictly perform the arts and entertain the guests are more of an expensive prize for those with money to show off to their companions. Kaguya has proven herself to perform almost as well as Ulquiorra in the arts. The girl is wicked with a game of cards.

She's a quick learner. Given time, she would even have the luxury of choosing her own clients as a geisha, and certainly as an oiran after she's makes a name for herself.

She could even give Harribel a running for number one oiran of Huenco Mundo.

Ulquiorra cannot fathom letting her go to Harribel. It takes an unordinary amount of willpower not to clench his fist, despite the fact that his long sleeve covers his hands. That earnest smile that Kaguya always has on her face, especially directed toward Ayame, will not allow him to send her to Harribel. Kaguya smiles at the simplest things, even with the simple act of finding a comb. That life is not-she…should never have to see that sort of sordid life.

It's none of his business though.

Let her go, and it is almost assured, given her disposition and popularity as a maiko, she will be snatched up right away by a wealthy, potentially kind, client.

Ulquiorra accepts the proffered comb, but the expression on his –no, _Ayame's_- face must worry Orihime because she's staring at him with those same _eyes_-

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her head bowed down.

Ulquiorra remains silence.

Kaguya could not possibly be considering that suggestion from those brats of Harribel could she?

"I-I um," she takes that silence as further admonishment. Her voice is shaky. "You had to hear them say mean things toward you," Kaguya continues, her hands crumbling the delicate silk of her sleeve between her fingers, "I-I thought if I retaliated, it would give them more reason to dislike you."

Suddenly, Kaguya drops to her knees, the palms of her hand pressed against the tatami floor, and her head bowed lowly until her forehead grazes against the mat.

"You have already been so kind to me. After all these years, I still have done nothing to return it," Kaguya states harshly.

And suddenly, Ulquiorra is surprised with a question he hasn't asked himself for a very, very long time.

'_Why hasn't she left me?'_

* * *

><p><strong>SS<strong>: Another chapter down. Hope you all enjoyed it, or at the very least are getting used to the time skips. Reviews are always appreciated!_  
><em>


	4. And They Fall

**Make Me Better**

Chapter Three: **And They Fall**

…

One month.

Had it really been a month since she snuck her way into Los Noches?

Her aching joints screamed 'yes'.

Orihime buried her head further into her pillow, a low moan escaping her lips as her joints clicked in place, muscles stretched stiffly, and the entirety of her body rebelling against her as her brain automatically clicked 'awake'.

She was used to manual labor, but her training as a maiko was forcing Orihime to use muscles she rarely used for farm work.

Even the tips of her hair felt sore as Orihime slowly pushed her upper body upward to sit properly on her bed.

It was a hand-me-down from past trainees but still far nicer than anything she ever had the luxury of owning. Her and her brother slept on a straw-stuffed comforter and even then, when their sole cow was running low on food, they had to forsake their bedding to keep her alive.

Orihime quietly tiptoed over the other sleeping maikos to change into her work clothing.

Sleeping past the crack of dawn was a luxury for her and her brother.

The sun was barely a glimmer in the horizon when Orihime first stepped out of the yard, a cover thrown over her shoulders to keep her warm from the early chill. She sighed, her breath forming a small cloud, which caused her to briefly smile. In her hands was a large, empty pail to fill with water from the pump tucked in the far corner of the yard. As the newest and inadvertently the oldest trainee, Orihime was stacked with the duty of retrieving water to clean the floors.

She sighed, remembering her first morning with the other maikos in training.

_The house of Las Noches was large and grand and for a second, Orihime was daunted by the sheer size of the establishment and the length of time it would take to clean it with its long winding halls, some leading to corridors that Orihime dared not venture merely due to instinct. These rooms were furthest from the windows, their halls lit softly by candles dipped in perfumed wax and oils, and curtains made from thick material to buffer any unwanted eyes or noise from the outside or in. _

_Another trainee noticed Orihime's inquiring gaze. _

_She smirked. _

"_That area of the house," said the trainee, Sung-Sun, a dark-haired girl whose lower half of her face was obscured with her long sleeve, "is the oiran side of Las Noches."_

_Orihime's eyebrows knitted together for a moment before it clicked, her eyes widening to resemble spheres. _

"_You don't mean…?" _

"_The men who seek pleasure from the bodies of women," Mila, another maiko, affirmed as she leisurely wrapped an arm around Orihime's shoulders. Her grin was half friendly, half like a feline. _

_A feline toying with a mouse. _

_Mila planted her chin on Orihime's shoulder, mostly using her as an item to rest on and a little because she, as the new girl, was already so interesting. "Our older sister Harribel is the number one oiran of Las Noches." _

_She grinned, her canines long, white and dangerous. "__**And**__ she's only been considered a geisha for less than three years, and an oiran less than a year!"_

_Orihime blushed. She never met someone who was so blunt, so willing to verbally speak about the…desires of others before. "Tha-that is very interesting." _

_Mila leaned closer to Orihime, "So, newbie," her golden eyes narrowed as she murmured ominously. "I hear you're under the Ice Queen's tutelage." _

"_Ice Queen…?" _

_They couldn't mean-_

"_Ayame, number two geisha of Las Noches," Sung-Sun clarified, her eyes quirked to the side of the common room in the direction where Ayame's quarters were located. "She doesn't interact with many people unless they're clients. Even some of the long established geishas are rarely spoken to by her." _

_She leaned closer to Orihime and Mila, "She's __**always**__ sends her newcomers running to the mistress begging her to switch older sisters." Her voice lowered to a low hush, "Some even quit the house and ask the mistress to trade them to another owner." She turned her eyes to look frankly at Orihime, the slightest hint of wonder in her voice," Surprisingly, you've lasted the longest with her."_

_Orihime bit her lips. _

_All the other girls – there eyes were all on her. _

"_Kaguya." _

"_Older sister," Orihime brightened at the familiar voice. Relief ran through her system like a hot cup of tea and she wanted nothing more to be near that voice. Simultaneously, the arm around her slackened enough so that she could duck and free herself from Mila's grip and move toward her sister. _

_Ayame appeared from her room and entered the small room where all the girls in training her frozen in shock. Her eyes narrowed at the group of gossiping maikos, particularly the ones surrounding Orihime. Even in her just awakened, sleep-ruffled state, the second most favored geisha in Las Noches stood before them as if she were gracing them in her finest silk robes. Still swathed in her white sleeping robes, only Ayame's long ebony hair was in disarray falling along her back like nightfall cresting against the snow. _

_Orihime has self-consciously tugged at her own clothes. The rough cotton of the cleaning kimono scratched her skin. They were far nicer than the threadbare kimonos she wore at the farm. She was pretty sure the pitiful kimono she wore when she first begged Nelliel to allow her into the compound was even unsuitable to be thrown into the rag bin. _

_The only memento of her life before were the hairclips carefully wrapped in a clean linen cloth – lovingly tucked underneath her pillow within reach. It kept the night terrors at bay, especially the first night. Surrounded by the sound of horses pushing carriages and parties from the other side of the house echoing within the confines of the house, caused the loneliness to circle her, almost choking her with its strange, unfamiliar grip. The touch of the cool metal against her fingertips as she reached for her hairclips put her at ease enough for her to close her eyes. _

_Green eyes narrowed as Orihime nearly sprinted to her, "Walk slower." _

_Ayame pressed her fan against the side of Orihime's shoulders. The delicate fan a harsh sting against her skin as it rapped against it. Orihime automatically straightened her shoulders. "Your posture is wretched." _

"_Y-yes," Orihime furiously nodded, a blush covering the bridge of her nose as she bowed her head. Her chest clenched, shame sweeping throughout her system. She could imagine the knowing looks behind her. They were probably gloating; maybe even looks of sympathy due to her older sister reprimand her for mistakes, in public no less. However, when she turned around to bid her maiko-sisters farewell, they averted their eyes from her, namely, from Ayame in particular. _

_Perplexed, Orihime looked up toward her older sister. _

_Ayame's eyes flickered toward Orihime before she turned away. "Come, your maiko training begins today." _

_Obediently, she followed, not before waving good-bye at the other maikos before she quickly trailed after her older sister. The quiet left after Ayame's appearance was deafening. _

Suffice it to say, Orihime's first morning with her fellow maiko-sisters had been nerve wracking and an eye-opener to say the least.

Presently, Orihime dumped her third pail of water in the cleaning water bin when she heard the slightest of sounds.

"Kaguya."

"Older sister," Orihime greeted. Contact with her older sister was minimal at best. Her first month here was dedicated to getting adjusted to the maiko life. It was a test of her adaptability. Only after Orihime was deemed a fit member of the household, would she be able to interact with her older sister. The one time, excluding introductions, Orihime ran into Ayame, was an eye-opener. Ayame had appeared behind her –quiet and unassuming like a shadow- and Orihime with her guard completely down, had shrieked and jumped at least two feet in the air. For someone like Ayame with a presence generally unavoidable to notice to seemingly filter through the house like a stray breeze was both awe-inspiring and humbling.

"Come."

Ayame turned away, leaving Orihime awestruck for several moments before she scurried after her and promptly into her room

Orihime automatically took a step back.

Not to protect herself from Ayame's penetrating gaze or the sterile state of the room. This was only her third time into the room, and the first two times were merely on the outskirts to fetch her belongings. To actually step into the room and stay was – was-

She couldn't allow herself to touch anything.

Despite the hours Orihime invested in the bathhouse, she could still feel the grit of poverty still underneath her fingertips.

It would be- Orihime just couldn't.

"Your name," Ayame finally said. She turned her cool stare toward Orihime, "Your family must have thought very highly of you to name you after the moon princess of legend." She slowly walked closer to Orihime, raising her hand to briefly touch Orihime's cheek, "Or did you give it to yourself?" She forced Orihime to look up at her, "A new start perhaps?"

Her parents named her after the thread weaving princess separated from her lover. Kaguya, Orihime recalled just after Nelliel asked for her name, was the beautiful princess living on the moon, watching the earth from her white, shining palace.

"I was my parents youngest child and only daughter," Orihime smiled softly. "I was their princess."

She could no longer be Orihime.

'_Kaguya'_ would be the nostalgic reminder of a life she forsaked.

"A _princess_, huh?" Ayame leaned closer to Orihime, and suddenly it dawned on her how taller the other really was.

It wasn't just her imagination.

"I suppose it is fitting that 'Ayame' means 'moon flower'," Ulquiorra quirked her eyebrow, "It will be my duty to make you a princess."

Her smile widened, shaking her head as she straightened her back, looking directly into Ayame's green eyes, "To my parents, I was already a princess."

"_Was_," Ayame breathed as she turned around.

For one excruciatingly long moment, Orihime felt her world close.

She thought she left-

These memories, they were returning.

Just like last time.

Her brother wasn't here anymore.

Sora was far away.

Everything else faded around her in a blur of grey, and Orihime saw-she saw oh so much red –she remembers furiously scrubbing her skin _raw_. She distantly felt her legs move of their volition; her mind still blank to everything but her brother and her faded memories of her parents.

_Sora. Sora. Sora. _

_Big brother!_

Orihime crumbled into the ground. She was somewhere quiet, somewhere where no one could find her. Alone.

She sobbed his name into her folded knees. Her body was wracked with tears and she just couldn't-

She didn't cry when she left home nor did she when she first slept on the streets of the city.

'_I miss you, Sora_.' Orihime whimpered into her sleeves, hot, salty tears running down her cheeks and staining the delicate cloth. The sweet smelling soaps, the ones that she eyed enviously, lingered on her body from her bath made breathing insufferable now. She coughed, her lungs desperately seeking for the fresh country air – the smell of new vegetable shoots, just broken free from the ground and searching for the sunlight.

Pressing her body closer into the small corner of Las Noches' compound, Orihime curled into herself, her fingers scratching at the still moist soil from yesterday night's rain. She buried her face against the ground, breathing in its musty, earthy scent.

It smelled like home.

.

"You broke her already, Ulquiorra," Nel commented more than questioned. Firmly shutting the tatami door behind her, she settled herself across from Ulquiorra and beside Orihime's fevered form.

Nel nearly spat out the sake she was drinking when _Ulquiorra_ appeared in the house with Kaguya's unconsciouas form wrapped in Ayame's sleeping robe. He moved quickly and discretely from the expansive yard and into the private entrance meant for only Nel, Ulquiorra, and a few select others. This all further piqued Nel's curiosity.

The distinctively masculine figure sitting beside Kaguya's unconscious formed didn't respond. He still hadn't changed into Ayame's daywear yet. Instead, he dipped a clean cloth into a bowl of cool water, switching it for the one on Orihime's fevered head.

The soil from the yard was already wiped away.

There were still smudges of dirt from the yard on Ulquiorra's sleeves.

"Possibly."

"She lasted a whole month; a record. I commend you."

"The Ice Queen is finally in need of a new protégée?" A new voice appeared in the room.

"Shouldn't you be working, Hallibel?"

The blonde oiran didn't bother knocking as she peeked her head in through the partially opened tatami door. The blonde woman was _quiet_. Leaning in, her long hair in disarray, her kimono loose and disheveled; the conscious occupants of the room could smell the lingering visages of sex emanating from her body. "It ended quicker than he imagined." Hallibel coolly waved her hand, an eyebrow raised curiously in Kaguya's direction. She cocked her head to the side, "This little bird just made a record for herself."

Ulquiorra scoffed, "The girl is too soft."

"She must be rubbing off on you if you're here _personally_ taking care of her," Hallibel replied before she disappeared into the hallway. She had a bath waiting and a new interesting story that was unfolding before her.

Nel chuckled as Ulquiorra turned away. "What did you say to her? Usually, the newcomers are screaming your name as they're crying and running away from your room."

"Oh?"

"She was muttering '_Sora'_ over and over again," Nel. "A beloved perhaps?"

"She's only twelve," Ulquiorra muttered, "What could she possibly know about love?"

"Enough," Nel replied, her gaze lingering on Orihime before she returned back to Ulquiorra. "You still _want_ her?"

"I am not interested in children."

"Hmm, _humor_. She really is getting to you." Neliel chuckled, waving a hand at the unconscious girl. "Do you still want to be her _mentor_?"

"It depends on her."

"You're the only one who doesn't have a little bird under their wing."

"You were the one who gave her to me."

"You're the one who first showed interest." Neliel smirked, leaning closer to Ulquiorra until they were breathing the same air. "The one who pointed her out."

"She's skinny," Ulquiorra turned away. "She is still not eating properly, possibly due to living with such meager means in her last home. Combined that with the excitement of those gossiping girls, the city and Hueco Mundo and the exertion of her training. It's no wonder a country girl such as herself would faint."

"So," Neliel rose from her position, dusting off the non-existent dust that had gathered on her kimono. "That means you've been watching her very carefully." She paused before smiling, "She's in good hands then."

Ulquiorra stopped her just as she was about to slide open the tatami door.

"I will not be working today."

"Is that so?"

"I received a chill from last night." Ulquiorra pointedly glanced at Nelleil, "The owner has yet to fix the windows in my hallway leading to my room. It's drafty."

Nelleil turned away, just before disappearing into her own chambers, "I'll have it fixed soon. I wouldn't want any little birds to become more ill."

He listened to her fading footsteps until silence reined throughout the room.

Beside him, Kaguya wheezed, "Sora…" She turned over on the bed, her hand slipping under her pillow. The amber haired girl abruptly rose from the bed, "M-my hair clips!"

"Your what?"

Tear-filled eyes stared at him, "M-my hair clips. They're supposed to be under my pillow! He g-gave them to me!"

With a sob, tears finally erupted, running down her cheeks in torrents and onto the pillow, her fingers grasping blindly at the pillow for an item that wasn't there.

Ulquiorra, distinctly aware that he was not adequately dressed as Ayame, hesitantly reached for her sobbing shoulder. She flinched with his touch, but…but her sobbing was slowly subsiding. He kept the palm of his hand on her shoulder until her sobs quieted and only heavy breathing could be heard in the room.

"Annoying girl." He sighed.

Throwing a wrap around himself, making sure it obscured his broad shoulders and part of his face, he smeared gloss on his lips and a little blush – something to keep the ruse that he was Ayame from the entirety of the house – before disappearing into the hallway.

Today was not his day.

"Ayame!"

"Oh my gosh, excuse me big sister."

"You're still in your nightwear, Ayame?"

"Ack, older sister! Uhh…"

Ulquiorra glanced at the faces around her, ignoring some while gracing the ones that mattered with a slight tilt of the head.

"Older sister!" Loly stood before Ulquiorra, shell-shocked. She suddenly lurched forward, a blonde head colliding into her back, just barely colliding into the stoic geisha.

"Why the hell did you stop, Loly?" Menoly sniped, shoulder checking the other in the shoulder until she realized they were in front of company. Her eyes visibly widened, "_Oh_."

"Out of my way," Ulquiorra murmured, Ayame's husky voice leaving his lips. His grip on his cover minutely tightened, "Now."

Menoly and Loly scrambled away from the door, watching after Ulquiorra curiously as he walked into the room. Looking around, the large sleeping area clean and the belongings of the maikos already stored away in the wall cabinets.

"Where are Kaguya's belongings?"

"Why would you expect us to know?" Loly crossed her arms, daring to talk back to the older woman. "She's just a newcomer."

"Do not make me repeat myself," Ulquiorra turned around to face the two, causing them to visibly shrink back.

"She doesn't have much," murmured Menoly. "But her sleeping futon is the bottommost drawer."

Ulquiorra quickly located the sleeping futon, taking note that it was one of the older, shabbier futons given to the maikos. Parting the folded bedspread, he noticed a cream, threadbare linen piece of cloth. It was obviously well taken care of. He frowned, picking up the small parcel. He could feel something thin, firm, and slightly rounded within the confines of the cloth.

'_This worthless thing…?' _

He unwrapped a corner, curious.

_Oh_, he thought.

Sighing, he tucked it within his pocket and left as quickly as he arrived.

Kaguya was still asleep, thankfully. Neliel would probably have another laugh on his sake if Orihime woke up and attempted to run away again.

Placing the parcel beside her, Kaguya immediately opened her bleary, bloodshot eyes. Weakly, she turned around and grabbed the parcel, holding it close to her chest as she folded herself around the meager item.

She looked up, smiling against her fever and weariness and for a moment, Ulquiorra felt his breath stall in his throat.

"Thank you."

…

**SS**: Awesome, I updated. Celebratory ice cream sandwich is totally due now.


	5. There's a Shark

**Make Me Better**

Chapter 4: **There's A Shark (In The Water)**

...**  
><strong>

"Your posture is horrible."

"Are you deaf? _With_ the beat."

"It's only been an hour, your legs cannot possibly be cramping now."

A sigh.

"At least you're not moving like an ogre anymore. That's one accomplishment."

Orihime breathed heavily, leaning against the cool side of the hallway, her body obscured by the low lights and the creeping shadows of nightfall.

She slides down the wall, her breathing slowly becoming less erratic and more paced as the seconds tick slowly by.

A shadow of a whisper escapes from Ayame's painted lips as she passes by Orihime before she disappears behind the entryway and toward her room.

Orihime hides her blushing face in her sleeves.

Ayame said her dance was adequate.

It is the closest to a compliment in four years.

…

"Your girl learns fast."

Harribel plops her form gracefully by Ulquiorra's side, her smoking pipe in her hand, the other curled around the crook of his elbow as she leans onto his shoulder. The indulgent smell of black cherries and maple oak wafts in the night air from her pipe. It is a pleasant smell, but pale in comparison to the woman holding the pipe. She is already finished with her last client of the evening; her body still damp, the sweet, clean smells of her bath wafting from her sensuous body.

Ulquiorra remains unreceptive – his body still as stone – his eyes focused solely on the nearly full moon that crested against the dark night as it bathed Las Noches and its vast courtyard in a serene white light.

Truly beautiful things didn't last long in the slums of Hueco Mundo.

"I saw her dance," Harribel states conversationally. She curls the length of her body around his side, trapping him. She sees his green eyes flicker with the slightest interest at the mention of the young woman.

"She's good," the blonde continues. She scoots further inward until she can rest her chin on his shoulder, "Even _your_ clients are taking notice of the girl and her talents."

Turning away, she brings up her pipe to her full lips and takes a deep inhalation from the smoking stick. She pouts her lips into an 'O', sending little rings of grey-purple smoke into the night air. Harribel smiles, whether at her own trick or at the statement is unknown to him. "It's a _nifty_ addition to her looks, don'cha think?"

Ulquiorra remains silent.

She can see his painted fingers digging slightly into the hardwood as she speaks. Harribel exhales another smoke ring, watching as the loops of smoke disperse, momentarily obscuring the glowing moon. "You're not getting rid of me that easily. I'm used to your little games." Her warm breath tickles the nape of his neck as she leans forward until their faces are inches from one another, "The silent treatment is childish at this point."

Harribel fingers', thrumming against the hardwood of the floor beneath them, is the only other accompaniment to the sounds of the crickets in the yards, the only thing marring in an otherwise peaceful setting.

"I do not play games."

"Is that so?"

Harribel presses her shoulder against his, pressing into his skin like a warning. She takes another taste of her pipe, breathing deeply from it before exhaling in the direction of the courtyard, "Then let your Princess explore more of the house. She's definitely old enough now. Playing house with her is just _sad_." She picks up Ulquiorra's cup -the tea has long cooled- and swirl the murky green contents within the cup absently mindedly. "Especially since you're her doting 'older sister', yeah?"

"She's under my care," Ulquiorra coolly replies, finally moving –just the slight tilt of his head- to catch Harribel's eye. The blonde shrugs, chugging the tea down in one gulp. "I will see how she progresses. Your advice is unnecessary."

"Hmm…"

She grins, a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she makes it a point to lean further against Ulquiorra. Her supple, slightly unclothed breasts press against his arm, causing his breath to just noticeably hitch under her keen eye. He is not exactly rebuking her but it still took some effort for her to move his upper body so that she is basically pressing him against the pillar of the patio and settled (relatively) comfortably in his lap. Her thin summer kimono is nearly translucent from her still damp body. She can see his eyes straying to her ample bosom.

Grinning, Harribel wraps her arms haphazardly around his shoulders, attempt at some semblance of modesty as she crosses her legs over one another but it proves futile as it allows the length of her kimono to slip, revealing a firm, lean thigh leading up to…

Ulquiorra moves his head away.

Harribel continues humming; it is a piece he'd been playing earlier – the conniving woman. She stares at him from underneath the fringe of her blonde hair with eyes sharper, more coherent than someone who had drunken with several clients. They are the eyes of the shark of a woman she had to become to thrive in Hueco Mundo. She leans closer to his upturned face, her soft, moist lips brushing against the nape of his neck – predator tasting her prey – every time she speaks. Sparks of fire-hot electricity tingled down his spine. "_Four years_. One would think you had a sister-complex by now…or perhaps," her eyes narrow, "You're simply a man coveting a woman, hmm?"

Ulquiorra abruptly stands up, causing the blonde to tumble onto the warmed hardwood floors in an undignified heap. She catches herself quick enough, leaning her elbow on her leg as she rests her chin on her palm; even in a state of disarray, Harribel is beautiful. She smiles toothily. Her perfectly white teeth nearly glow in the light of the lanterns decorating the yard.

"Now you're playing games," he replies.

Ulquiorra tugs his long, maroon wrap around his body, an outer garment to protect from the cold but more so to assume the role of Ayame to a passerby.

"Aww, young master is agitated," chuckles Harribel. She raises her pipe into the air, mock saluting his retreating figure as he disappears into the solemn halls of Las Noches.

…

Ulquiorra stops right outside of the dance hall. He could still Harribel's lingering touches against his bare skin. The urge to swipe Harribel's ghostly touches from his body rears its ugly head, but to touch the patch of skin where she had hers would be a victory for her.

His skin prickles. He could remember years ago where he would have welcomed her touched, almost begged for it, but now…

He shudder, he could smell the cloying scent of her pipe imprinted underneath his skin.

Annoying woman.

A sound interrupts his musings.

Laughter.

He forgets his discomfort.

The laughter is free and spirited like the wind chimes outside of his room.

Familiar.

He can see the shadow of the lone person in the room, but he knows who is there long before he reaches his destination.

Sliding the thin door, just enough to see the main stage, he can see Kaguya. She is wearing her plain sleeping clothes: a white kimono with a cerulean shawl haphazardly thrown over her shoulders. Her hair is knotted in a quick braid, flowing loosely behind her with every movement. She is currently twirling on the stage, a fan in each hand and a silly smile on her face. She is not dancing formally at all; especially in the way she over dramatically moves her fans in wide, expansive arcs – sometimes even fanning them in a way that is reminiscent of baby birds in their first attempt at flight. She bats her eyelashes in an over exaggerated manner to her nonexistent audience. It is a dance, one created from her own mind, along with a folk song they listened to the other day. It was from one of the young maikos, a song from her home about a little mouse in search for berries across the river.

Ulquiorra is amused, but watches in scrutiny. He'll have to remember to remind Kaguya about her antics but then Kaguya raises her arms halfway into the air. She suddenly stops to a dead halt.

Her song turns into a low hum.

Ulquiorra recognizes it as the song from the shimasen that he had been teaching to her earlier in the week.

His eyes widen slightly as she transforms right before his eyes. She rises from her crouching position slowly, like a crane walking across the riverbank. Her eyes are closed shut, a small, sincere smile on her face as she gracefully raises her fans to cut in the air deftly, like the wings of a crane opening, readying to fly.

Kaguya continues humming, each step exact to Ulquiorra's specifications but so much more fulfilling than his own movements. There was an extra something –_happinessexcitement**joy**_- that makes him startle. He doesn't know when, but his body automatically moved of its own accord inward, further into the dance hall to watch his little sister dance.

She is taking his dance, the one _he_ taught her, and making it her own.

His dance is pale in comparison.

He can no longer hear Kaguya humming.

Kaguya is standing still in the stage, a small figure amongst the grandeur of the room, her body straight and hands neatly folded within one another as she unknowingly bows before her sole audience member. She opens her eyes, alight with happiness as she raises her arms into the air and gives a holler, startling him from his reverie.

"That was soooo much fun!" Her voice resounds throughout the hall.

She twirls around, just like before when she was singing about the mouse. There is a delighted sheen of sweat over her flushed pink cheeks, her silver eyes slightly dilated and large from the sudden reemergence of normal vision. She continues her childish giggling and spinning until she tumbles into the floor in a heap of white cloth and bright amber hair. She rolls around the floor, further tangling her hair and messing up her robes, but disregards her appearance as she continues to laugh to herself.

Kaguya doesn't hear the door shutting behind her in finality.

…

"Obaa."

"Yes, young master."

"I told you not to call me that."

"You will always be _young master_."

The corner of his eyelid ticked in slight irritation. He glanced at his body, clothed in the heavy outfit of his geisha outfit. "Clearly, the name does not apply to its owner."

Obaa shrugged, "I'll call you Ayame when need be. I would hate for you to be too comfortable in this," her eye twitches, "Profession."

Ulquiorra sighed, "As if I would willingly choose to stay this way."

"I could see a reason why you would."

"Unlikely."

"Older sister!"

Ulquiorra turned around just in time to catch Kaguya appear in the room, tumbling beside him in glee like a kitten scampering after a piece of string. Behind him, Obaa was chuckling. A moment later, she chided the girl about her behavior.

Favoritism was apparent.

Kaguya was flushed. He could almost see the blush emerging on her cheeks despite the heavy layer of white makeup decorating her already flawless face.

"I-I'm sorry," she murmured, glancing down at her lap and up at Ulquiorra's face nervously. The gleam of exhilaration did not diffuse in her eyes. "But please let me tell you what just happened!"

"Oh?"

Ulquiorra settled himself down on a cushion, readying for another of her odd stories. The girl was always getting into mischief. He didn't have to turn around to know Obaa was already looking expectantly at Kaguya. They had somehow formed an odd friendship after her first couple of days. She was only twelve and already making such an interesting connections to the other occupants of the House of Las Noches.

Ulquiorra was twenty and already, he felt old age creep in his bones in comparison to Kaguya's overactive youth.

"I-I was helping Mistress Neliel with the new clients an-and," Kaguya momentarily glanced down, her fingers picking at her kimono, her voice softening, "He said that I was very pretty."

Sigh.

To be young again.

"That's good," Ulquiorra murmured, his voice an octave higher to suit the persona of Ayame. "I hoped you thanked him properly.

"Of course," Kaguya assured, her smile broadening. "I told him about you! T- that you were an amazing geisha and even better artist, and he seemed interested. I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries," she muttered bashfully last, sneaking a peak at Ulquiorra and Obaa's faces through the dark fan of her eyelashes.

"The more clients, the better," Ulquiorra replied casually before standing up. "I have a concert in the next hour. Watch my movements carefully."

It would be at least year before Kaguya would be proficient enough to play the shimasen, another before she could accompany him. Still, letting her watch provided a visual of what she could potentially do in the future.

"Come, I have to warm up. Pay attention."

"Yes ma'am!"

Ever enthusiastic about watching Ulquiorra perform, Kaguya bounded after him eagerly, shooting Obaa a smile before following her older sister to the concert hall.

The old lady sighed, shooting a glance upward toward the sky in a silent prayer to the gods. She held back a grin, her shoulders shaking slightly in laughter as she resumed her sewing.

Life was proving to be more interesting than ever before.

…

"How old is that little bird next to you?"

Orihime blinked, her surprise quickly masked as she resumed pouring tea. Was he talking about her?

"She is sixteen," Ayame stated tartly, shooting a glance at Loly. Another geisha's customer should not ask about another geisha, especially her maiko, so intimately.

Menoly snuggled closer into Nnoitra's embrace, "She's just a young thing. Nothing for you to concern yourself with."

"She's old enough," Nnoitra murmured out loud, enough for the two geisha's and one startled maiko to hear. Ayame's customer, a kind regular and grandfather of two, accepted the proffered tea from Orihime with a smile, but peered at the other customer in disdain.

It was an unsaid rule in Hueco Mundo to never talk about another geisha, especially a maiko, while in the presence of their own designated geisha.

Orihime held her posture, smiling pleasantly at the customer –that was not _Ayame's_- and politely shook her head. "Thank you for the compliment, but I am sadly, still too young for your consideration."

Her eyes flickered to Menoly and she mentally groaned. The geisha and her counterpart Loly would be giving her hell later in the evening if they managed to corner her.

Ayame strummed the last few notes of the song, a song about the coming summers with the festivals and fireworks and fresh fruit, and bowed. A smile quirked on her face as she gazed at her esteemed customer, "Would you do me the honor of walking in the gardens today? The flowers have finally chosen to blossom."

Nodding, and sensing the underline tension in the room, he agreed. Orihime offered her arm, helping the older gentleman from his cushion as Ayame gracefully rose from her seat to wait for him. Servants who had been watching from the corner of the room swiftly grabbed her belongings to transport back to her room. Orihime stepped to the side, helping the servants with the packing.

Wrapping an arm around her customer's arm, Ayame led him out to the main gardens.

The distance sound of Menoly's giggling, sweet and sticky like the sweet syrup poured over shaved ice, lingered behind her as Orihime stepped out of the room.

A chill went down Orihime's spine.

She blamed the lingering effects of winter.

Her head turned upward, Orihime allows the sun to embrace her in its tender hold. Spring was finally here, cautiously unfurling before her as the days grew longer and the nights warmer. Orihime maintained a respectable few feet behind Ayame and the older gentleman as they casually walked through the gardens. Their conversation was a low lull. She 's quietly amazed at how intelligent Ayame was as she pointed out the blooming flowers, what their names were, and even if they could help whatever pains the older man was still feeling from the winter months.

The smell of new plants blooming in the air, the birds chatting amongst one another, and the stray breeze brushing against the branches of the trees – Orihime closed her eyes.

When did this place replace home?

…

"The lights are so much brighter outside!" Kaguya rocked back and forth on her heels, watching the lights flicker even more radiantly from over the wall separating Las Noches from the main area of town. She could hear excited chattering and the laughter of children.

Her heavy make-up was already removed and she was in her less formal robes. Her hair was loosely tied in a ponytail, several tangerine strands unfastened from her hair-tie messily framing her flushed face. Her gray eyes glittered with the excitement of what was occurring beyond the walls. The summer was a signal that she had been in Los Noches for nearly a year.

"The summer festival is coming soon. They're building the bonfire for the end of the summer," Neliel responded, looking up from her cup of alcohol. She took another sip and licked her lips in appreciation of the fermented drink. "The little punk across the street promised me his best summer sake."

Ulquiorra sat his cup down. He could smell the visages of a scheme looming in the distant horizon.

"A festival…?" Kaguya's attempts to cover up her curiousness were in vain as Harribel and Nel glanced at one another. Harribel was resting against one of the columns of the house, partaking of the mistress's vast stock of alcohol.

The silent conversation going on between the two was not lost, even on the young maiko.

Ulquiorra glanced at Kaguya and knew he was doomed the moment he allowed himself to turn his head to look at his young ward.

Kaguya's eyes were large and pleading. She was biting her bottom lip and trying to make it seem like she really didn't want to go.

She was failing badly.

"I have not scheduled any customers for the upcoming week," Ulquiorra muttered. He tilted his head to the side, sending a warning look at Neliel and Harribel as they quietly toasted Orihime and her victory. "Depending on how you do this week, we may possibly go."

Ulquiorra abruptly stood up, frankly ignoring Neliel and Harribel and their knowing smiles.

Kaguya's excited squeal echoed in the walls of Las Noches.

Several older geishas passing nearby smiled at him, their grins hidden behind their sleeves as they looked onward at the young Ice Queen and her protégée shrieking her thanks for all of Los Noches to hear.

* * *

><p><strong>SS<strong>: I think I'm due a celebratory nap now. -yawns-


	6. See Me Now

**Make Me Better**

Chapter 5: **See Me Now **

…-…

It's hard to look common when you've been trained to be anything _but_ common.

It was easier when they were younger, before he became number two of Las Noches.

Even more so before Hueco Mundos' famous little bird started to accompany him everywhere.

Tugging his shawl closer to his head, Ulquiorra grasps Kaguya closer as the girl pauses (for _food_, of course), allowing nearby pedestrians and stall owners the opportunity to admire her in all her innocent beauty.

She has no sense of decorum and smiles, causing more bystanders to pause in their tracks. A bicyclist cycles by, his mouth agape and his cheeks flushed from Orihime's grin.

Ulquiorra listens expectantly, mentally counting down: 3…2…1… and – BAM – there it was, a bicyclist who was captivated by Kaguya's smile just ran into a stall.

"Come," her murmurs, grasping her shoulder and pushing her forward back to the safety of the House. She blushes but manages to peer up at him through the thick fan of her eyelashes, a bashful, if apologetic, smile on her pink lips.

He is…not as immune as he thinks he is, he realizes in exasperation as the corners of his lips involuntarily quirk upward in response.

Kaguya hurries her stride in an effort to match his pace, leaving awed admirers, an injured bicyclist and angry shop owner, in her wake.

Before…_before_ she was just _cute_, a novelty – like taking in a lost kitten amongst the broken and gritty streets of Las Noches.

Now, _now_ though –

Kaguya has undoubtedly matured – baby fat disappearing as she shot up in height, making way for high cheekbones, her body filling out in ways that made other geisha's envy, all coupled with an otherworldly grace with every step she took – an ugly duckling transformed into a swan literally before his eyes over the past four years.

Harribel and Nel always – _always_ give that little knowing grin whenever one of the clients, the older ones who have watched Kaguya bloom into a young lady, compliment on her meticulous rearing. The two shoot him looks, veiled underneath demure, _appreciative_ (condescending in Harribel's case) smiles.

Kaguya is a pretty sight, her energy and infectious smile unending even with age and knowledge, especially in Hueco Mundo where pretty things are tarnished before their time.

"All credit should be directed toward Ayame," Nel would sweetly reply, and then, joy of joys, he would have to thank the customer, which opened the floodgates for other questions, one being: when would Kaguya be available as a geisha?

It irked him, but he would slap a smile befitting of Ayame – demure and just shy of cool – and shake his head, "My little sister is still quite green, but thank you for your interest."

She would be turning seventeen soon, he notes as she skips ahead a few paces in front of him. She's waving to the throng of children climbing on top of one another to get a glimpse of Hueco Mundo's ginger-haired princess.

Even in drab, plain clothes, Kaguya is the sun amongst the throng of the ordinary.

Ulquiorra mentally sighs – walking with Kaguya never changes.

…

Orihime often watched the festival fireworks with her brother.

Every single year, she would grasp his hand, their fingers intertwined with one another and their eyes upward at the bright lights that boomed sparkling lights in the air like shining, iridescent flowers.

Except, she never actually went into the fair.

Sora had often offered, many, many times.

But Orihime was no fool. She saw the weariness in his eyes despite his best attempts to cover it. He was always worn out and haggard after working in the fields all day, and late at night, when he thought she was fast asleep, he would painstakingly count what meager funds he saved for the week. She would watch him count out the precious coins, over and over again, hoping that somehow the sum would just be more than it was the last time he calculated.

Orihime didn't have the heart to drag him along to the festival.

Ignorance was bliss.

The _knowing_ that it was there, the bright lights of the festival and the loud hum of the townsfolk chattering nearby as they walked the one-mile trek back to their little home, was more than enough.

Orihime would hold Sora's hand tightly, a smile on her face as she leaned into his side, reassuringly telling him she was happy to simply be with him. They would sit on the rickety bench outside of their home, munching on whatever little, sweet scraps Sora rounded up from town, as they watched the fireworks lighting the air in the distant – like bursts of vividly colored sunlight against the darkness of the sky.

It was enough.

One day, Orihime promised herself back then, her fingers laced with his like a comforting weight, she would see them up close with her brother.

She gently grazed her hand against the breast of her kimono where her hairclips were tucked in– this would have to do.

Ayame nudged her shoulder, diverting Orihime inches away from walking into a heavily decorated pole.

Orihime blushed.

"Pay attention," Ayame stated, discreetly tugging her closer to her side.

"Yes!"

The energy of the festival was vibrant, even when not in its direct premises, smacking her squarely in the face.

"Grilled squid here!"

"Oooh, beautiful ladies surely deserve beautiful new fans!"

"Gold fish here! Try your hand at getting as many goldfish as possible!"

"Mmm," Orihime's mouth was watering, her body leaning forward toward the culinary stalls. "Smells amazing!"

She jolted as a hand suddenly touched her head, tucking her head shawl more firmly against the crown of her head. Peering upward, Orihime blushed as she murmured 'thank you' as Ayame's gaze flickered from her to the festival ahead. Her hair was noticeable, and she was sure Ayame didn't need any more attention drawn to herself.

They were dressed very plainly, both wearing plain kimonos, shawls over their heads, and their faces free of any trace of makeup. However, it did nothing to hide the fact that they were in fact, very, _very_ attractive individuals.

It may have been a mixed blessing Orihime was too excited to notice the stares she garnered.

"Stay close," was all the older woman said as the crowd around them started closing in on them, eager to enjoy the festival to the max.

Orihime nodded, her hand instinctively grasping her older sister's arm to tuck herself against her side, just like she'd done with her brother every time they went into town for shopping.

Dirty, orphaned children were not generally a favored sight in their little village.

She didn't notice Ayame's shoulder hitch up slightly or the pair of widened emerald eyes staring at her.

"HOT TAKOYAKI HERE!"

Orihime soundly gulped.

"If you want some," Ayame murmured lowly. Green eyes narrowed impassively under a dark, rumpled fringe of hair at the hawker, "Then go."

"O-oh no," Orihime looked down at the ground shyly, her eyes darting up to look at the stand with unabashed interest, "Looking is enough."

Suddenly, she was pushed to the stall, the owner staring at her bemusedly, if not a bit curious.

"This girl," Ayame's voice was overhead, "Would like to buy an order of your takoyaki."

"Good choice!"

Orihime opened her mouth to protest but before a word could come out, in her hands was a small tray of takoyaki, and out the corner of her eye, she could see Ayame handing the owner money.

A firm hand pressed against her shoulder and led her away as more customers pushed behind her, wanting their own order.

"Eat," Ayame stated as they walked to a less densely packed area. She stood beside Orihime, attentively watching her.

Reverently, Orihime slid the toothpick into the ball of meat, staring at the browned morsel with frightfully wide eyes.

A few seconds passed, and Orihime was still staring at the food as if it was a gem.

"You're drooling," Ayame said at last.

Orihime gulped. "I am."

"Eat it then." Ayame furrowed her brow. Wasn't the point of buying it was to eat it?

"But that would mean there would be less available in the future."

"And looking at it will rectify that?"

"Yes."

Ayame paused, then "Will you be eating it any time soon?"

"…Possibly."

"Eat it," Ayame sighed, "I'll buy you more."

"You've already been too kin – oomph," aforementioned stick of takoyaki suddenly found its way in her mouth. Automatically, Orihime started chewing.

"Do you like it?"

"Mhmm…" the first bite the immense burst of incredible flavor – octopus and soft, crispy batter – melting in her mouth.

"Such a troublesome girl you are…" She heard Ayame mutter. Orihime saw her older sister's blurry form lean closer, and then swipe of cloth against her cheek, rubbing warm moisture across her cheek.

Orihime blinked – she was crying?

"Only _you_ would cry over food."

"It's really good," she sniffled as she speared another meatball on her toothpick. She held it up hopefully, "You should try some too."

"I – "

"You bought it, therefore you should at least eat one!"

"Ugh," Ayame tilted her head to the side, staring at the ball of meat dubiously. Orihime blinked rapidly, blushing. Her older sister was…so adorable, looking at the food as if it would bite at her.

"Please?" Orihime bit her lip, her pleading winning out as Ayame leaned forward and engulfed it in her mouth.

"Good?"

Ayame shrugged, still chewing. "It's food. It's meant to be eaten."

"Another one?" Orihime held up another ball of takoyaki, a wide smile on her face.

Ayame leaned forward once more, obviously in defeat. "Why not?"

They ended up evenly splitting the dish between themselves.

"It was so good!"

"Mhmm."

Something shiny glittered in the distance.

"What is that?" Orihime was already moving toward it.

"I suppose we'll find out either way," Ayame leisurely followed after the young girl, making sure to keep a hand on the girl's wrist lest she disappear into the crowd. She peered out of the corner of her eyes; they were being watched.

Orihime was too busy charming the stall owners to notice her wariness.

Three surprisingly in-depth conversations about beads (ranging from seashells, glass, and copper) which led to bag of aforementioned beads, a brightly colored pinwheel, a small cloth full of dried, sweet smelling flowers, and a ball of forest green yarn, and a lengthy discussion about the best way of frying dough and red bean paste, and Orihime was sure she never wanted this night to end.

Orihime smiled at her newly acquired items, the crunch of cool, summer grass underneath her sandals as they made their way to the hilltop, before everyone else, to get a good seat for the fireworks.

"Thank you," Orihime breathed, a bright pink blush across her cheeks. "Thank you so very much!"

"I expect you to work harder with your training for all this," Ayame stated, trying to tuck the hair wrap tighter around Orihime's head.

An arm shot out in front of them, stopping them in their tracks. "Oh, I'll make you work."

Orihime squeaked, backing up into Ayame, her shawl jostling and suddenly loosening onto her shoulders, her braided amber hair falling loose in waves around her. "W-who are you?"

"Piece of scum," she heard Ayame state.

"I'm offended." Dark brown eyes stared at them predatorily, "We're just a couple of guys," the crunch of grass around them an indicator they were not alone, "Wanting to have some fun."

"N-No thank you," Orihime murmured, sandwiching herself between Ayame and the intruder. "We're having enough fun by ourselves."

"Don't you think it's selfish to limit the fun to yourselves?" Another man chuckled.

Looking frantically around them, Orihime's stomach plummeted. There were three other men around them.

"Get away from us," Ayame stated, pulling Orihime closer to her. "A piece of filth like you doesn't deserve to even be spoken by us."

He growled, "What the hell! You who-"

A fist collided into his face.

Orihime gasped, her hands covering her mouth.

"I told you," Ayame's disinterested green eyes watched his unconscious body fall to the ground in a crumbled heap, "To leave."

"Don't you dare mess with us –" The other three men raced forward, anger and disbelief across their faces as they reached out to grab Orihime and Ayame.

Ayame slid in front of her, and Orihime gasped – her older sister was always very tall and intimidating but…right now, the delicate flower that was Ayame was something more menacing.

She took one down – a knee into his stomach – before another grabbed her arm, pulling her close to his face, "Think you can play around like that with us, you whore?"

"No," she seethed, her voice deeper and lips pressed in a line, "You're not even worth my time of day."

She reared back and with a grunt, promptly sent him flying into a tree with a kick to the chest. The sound of the impact of his body against the hard bark of tree was reminiscent of the sound of bones crunching.

"Dammit," a large, rough hand grabbed Orihime's sleeve, tugging her toward a body that smelled like liquor and cigarettes, "Come a step closer and she gets it."

"Kaguya…" Ayame froze.

Orihime froze, one arm was around her neck, and the other hand was around her middle. She could feel a hand slide downward, his rough fingers attempting to slide underneath her kimono.

Her brother warned her of people like this.

"_Don't go down without a fight,"_ Sora warned.

It was almost instinctual at this point. Orihime struggled against the arm, bending her head down and promptly sank her teeth down on the tender flesh of his arm. Iron and sweat filling her mouth like putrid acid as she kept teeth embedded into the man like a leech.

He howled, raising an arm to –

"Kaguya!"

The sickening crunch of a fist meeting with the sharp crack of bone filled Orihime's senses. She didn't let go though, not until a hand grabbed her by the collar and pulled her away from the unconscious man.

Orihime felt herself pressed against a wall of a man, his grip around her surprisingly gentle despite the bulk of his body. He smelled like sake and gunpowder.

"You owe me one, Ulqui – I mean, fuck it, Ayame."

Orihime looked up, blinking back tears as her gaze fell onto feral, ice blue eyes. It was unnerving to be standing in the embrace of this frightfully tall and imposing (he made the other men look like dwarves) man, but better than with him than the currently unconscious man.

She stood very still, tight-lipped and in shock, just _staring_ at him until she was abruptly pulled into a more familiar set of arms, they smelled like jasmine and home.

…

"You're late," Ulquiorra seethed, ignoring the mishap with his name. He was barely able to contain the anger dripping from his voice as he held Kaguya close. She seemed so very small in his arms. "Grimmjow."

"Hey, I got sidetracked," Grimmjow ran a hand through his disheveled blue hair, scowling. "Besides, you handled it well enough." He tilted his head, eying the bundle in Ulquiorra's arms speculatively, "Your little girl is surprisingly feisty."

"Kaguya," Ulquiorra glanced down, staring at the girl in his arms, her arms wrapped around his middle and head firmly planted against his clothing. He gently shook her, "Look at me."

She shook her head.

"_Kaguya_."

Finally, after a few seconds, she peered up at him.

"A-Are you," she sniffled, looking up at him with large, watery eyes. Her grip was surprisingly strong for a girl out of the cusp of adolescence. "Are you okay?"

Ulquiorra frowned, "I am."

"I'm sorry," Kaguya whimpered before burying her head back into his shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry. If I hadn't asked you to go to the festival with me, this wouldn't have happened.

…What?

"What a weird little girl," Grimmjow exclaimed, leaning down to look at the crying bundle.

Ulquiorra awkwardly patted her head while simultaneously shielding her from Grimmjow's line of sight, the curious ass. "Kaguya, you should be more worried about yourself."

She shook her head, her head buried once against in his side, her fingers digging into Ulquiorra's kimono. "I'm okay. Y-you had to punch that person. Your poor hand."

She was…was concerned for him?

She was the one that was almost –

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Grimmjow laughing – covering his mouth with his arm, his shoulders quaking. His face was turning pink, his eyes glassy as he held his laughter. Immature brat.

"Look at me," Ulquiorra struggled in her grasp but managed to push his hand – a little rude, the knuckles stained with blood – underneath her chin and forcibly to look upward so that their eyes could meet one another. "I'm fine, my hand will heal."

Kaguya blinked, frowning at his clothing before moving her gaze upward to meet his eyes – as if to test his honesty. "You're honestly okay?"

"Yes."

"You promise?" She persisted.

Sigh. "I do."

Grimmjow was rolling on the ground now, his face purpling as he choked down his laughter. Ingrate.

Ulquiorra felt, before he saw, her move in his arms. Her fingers wrapped around the collar of his kimono, gently tugging him downward which he complied with until he was in direct eye-level with her. He flinched, startled as her forehead suddenly pressed against his, and a pair of small, soft hands tenderly cupped his face.

Kaguya closed her eyes, tears running down her face as she smiled a small, warm, sincere, grateful smile. She whispered, "I'm glad."

Ulquiorra felt his chest clench, almost to the point where he couldn't breathe. He couldn't (didn't) want to move. This small, seemingly insignificant girl was worried for his sake. She was always surprising him with her seemingly random bouts of strength.

No.

She was just a strong girl.

She would grow up to be an even stronger woman.

"Bahaha!"

Kaguya huddled close to him, tentatively peering at Grimmjow from the cover of Ulquiorra's arm as the man laughed aloud.

"He's an idiot," Ulquiorra stated to Kaguya seriously, his grip on her firm. "Ignore him."

"B- but I have to thank him," she persisted.

"I'm Grimmjow," he gasped between laughs, coughing as he attempted to pull oxygen into his lungs. He finally righted himself, brushing away tears from the corners of his eyes. He shot a smile – oddly reassuring despite the manic gleam in his eyes –toward her.

Ulquiorra scowled. He took a step forward, attempting to bracket Kaguya from the other's gaze.

"And I haven't laughed like that in a long, long time." Grimmjow leaned forward, ignoring the way Ulquiorra's brow furrowed at him. _Hilarious_. "And you girl, interest me."

* * *

><p><strong>SS<strong>: Spring Break time! Whoo! Instead of trotting on the beach, I finally upload a chapter. My priorities must be out of sync. haha


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